


I could have taught you how to swim

by lethalkitten



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Hurt without the comfort, M/M, basically what i think will happen in canon but am too sad to acknowledge, im sorry guys, pre-TI, treasure island happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 12:57:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10387137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethalkitten/pseuds/lethalkitten
Summary: Helplesness is sometimes the scariest feeling in the world. But then it isn't and your hand is empty and so is your heart. But sometimes, maybe, you can catch a glimpse of something that used to be. A golden ring. The colour of the eyes you will never forget.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry. i wrote this in august at like 2AM and i thought it was complete shit but it wasn't. so.. i posted it. i will welcome any kind of feedback.  
> also, straight after posting it i spotted a horrible grammatical error in the title. if you see anything like it, please report. i feel quite embarrassed about it. -.-

John Silver misses the sea. Which is why he wanders the shore, just looking on the ships that come in and out the harbour. He never thinks about stepping on a one ever again in his life but still he can't help but be lured by the sound of the waves. It's pathetic, really. One time he was so drunk he almost heard his voice in the surf. Saw the colour of his eyes in the water. But Flint never came back and he never drank that much again. 

It would all have been better if Flint had died in a battle. If he was hanged or shot. He could have died of syphillis or a fucking flu. But he didn’t. He drowned and he didn’t even have enough decency to do it in the water like any other reasonable man. He watched a man drown once. He remembers the helplesness even now, the way the man wanted to accept his death, to maintain his dignity. He remembers the way he frantically fought for life. He remembers how he finally stopped. 

You can count on James Flint to make everything horrible. That’s what the stories say nowaydays anyway. He stopped figting first. He had the eyes of a man who wanted to stop breathing and couldn’t. He seemed to slip through Silver’s fingers, he melted into his bed. 

John called him.

His name, over and over again. But Flint just clung to the bottle thighter. Back when he was stiill trying to fight, he said that Nassau was gone. That Thomas was gone. That Miranda died for nothing and that he’s just a ship with no sails and no anchor. Silver used to hold him, say they had each other. That they could start together, somewhere else. Somewhere where people would mistake an oar for a shovel. But Silver had no words so say it and somehow knew that Flint would never agree. For the first time in his life he couldn’t use his talent even though the world depended on it. And it did, at least he thought so then. 

So he remained silent and James Flint – after he finally caught up to him - slipped through Silver’s hands and drowned in liquor. 

Now he was going back. Back to the island where Flint buried his treasure before he lost himself. Back when he still thought there was a McGraw to return to or at least something to life for.

John Silver lived on. Oh yes. He got a bank account, got settled. He was the owner of a well established business and his wife was a gracefull creature who loved him in a way. It was more than most men could hope for. He lived in every sense of the word.

But one.

He will survive. He will take this treasure, the last part of James he can have. At any cost.


End file.
